Chapter 1 - Includes Map

Peter Bentencourt staggered and almost collapsed from transfer fatigue as he stumbled through the rift doorway connecting Earth to this magical realm of Kreven.

“Fuck! It’s cold!” he muttered, dropping to one knee from the sudden dizziness caused by the rapid loss of so much of his reserves. He gasped in a few quick, deep breaths trying to regain his strength and focus.

Like all crossings, he arrived naked, as bringing through clothing, or any material foreign to his body, depleted more of his physical strength and vastly-more-precious life energy. As the dizziness passed, the headache began throbbing and he rubbed his forehead with his left hand. His right hand still clenched tightly to the wrought iron chain trailing off behind him and extending through the still-active portal.

If he released the chain the linkage of his will to the open rift would break, causing it to close instantly and strand his cargo back on the Earth. Peter gritted his teeth and hung on stubbornly. If he failed now he would waste more time and end up burning even more strength and life force heading back across for a second attempt. Better to see the task done now.

As he hung on, he tried to mentally regain the energy needed to finish the task. It would be worse tonight, as he was bringing through a larger-than-normal load. In doing so, he could easily exceed his own considerable abilities, depleting his strength and life energies to very-dangerous levels. And, while the former recharged quickly with simple rest and sustenance, recovering the latter required time and extra effort. Speaking of that extra effort, where the hell was Miranda?

He recovered enough strength to stand and slowly inspected the dark, nearly empty portal chamber. The stone room which housed the rift anchor point was located below his manor house in what had once been a small, twisting, natural cavern. It had since been enlarged into a larger, dungeon-like chamber, but that hard work had occurred long before he had found and claimed Cursed Island for his manor home. And despite his research, all information on whoever had first located the rift anchorage and constructed the enlarged chamber had evaded him.

The only lighting in the portal chamber came from a pair of candles guttering in two wall sconces located to each side of the curving stone stairs leading up to the manor above. The lack of flowing wax on the candles meant that Miranda must have lit them only recently. This confirmed that she had at least received his earlier telepathic message announcing his pending arrival. Apparently, he’d been delayed long enough back on Earth that the busy woman had been unable to remain waiting.

Peter next spotted the small elixir vial lying on the floor just in front of where he stood. His assistant had thoughtfully attempted to provide for her absence by leaving him some means of recovery. Still retaining his grip on the chain, Peter took one step forward to where the vial lay atop the inscribed runes marking the center of the stone floor. In doing so, he triggered the magical tripwire alarm he’d left guarding the portal chamber. The alarm’s activation caused a pulse of light followed by a short, clear audible tone that echoed off the hewn rock walls of the portal chamber. The same tone could be faintly heard coming down the stairs from the rooms above as the warning propagated across his manor. His assistant, or one of his other ‘staff members’ would be along shortly.

He stooped and picked up the vial clumsily with his free left hand. It looked like one of his standard simple restorative potions. Although it was hard to tell in the flickering candlelight, the vial’s wax seal looked intact. Peter then squinted and found the tiny secret dot imprint he always added to the bottom edge of the wax seal. This had indeed come from his stores. Finally, he gave the vial and seal a sniff but only detected the smells of his usual ingredients. Did he dare assume that Miranda had left the vial and not someone less trustworthy?

With the fatigue of his recent transport and with his life essence still slowly dropping from maintaining the active portal for his cargo, Peter decided to risk it. He carefully bit through the seal and worked the stopper off with his teeth, letting both fall to the floor. It occurred to him belatedly that dabbing poison onto the unopened vial would have done him in just then as surely as mixing it into the vial’s contents. His fatigue was making him paranoid.

The contents of the vial still smelled normal so he took a sip. He almost instantly felt the rush of the magically-fortified potion sweeping through his body. Peter waited a moment for any odd reactions and after feeling none, downed the remainder. If he had chosen poorly, he’d just have to get his revenge after his eventual rebirth in Rhecate’s phoenix egg hatchery, assuming the half-crazy witch still held to their pact and resurrected him.

Now feeling somewhat restored, Peter turned to face the portal. He gave the chain a hard tug and, as he expected, it barely budged. This was due to a combination of the weight of the two caged bodies on the other end and the transfer resistance of the magical rift itself. He strained briefly once more before giving up with another curse. Back on the Earth side of the portal, Peter had used an overhead electric trolley to get the cages into position. Here, where magic ensured that such technology could not function, he’d have to rely on magic or simple brute physical force.

To make matters worse, with his current fatigue, more magic was not an option. And, because he had to maintain his grip on the chain, Peter was unable to reach the heavy rope and capstan bolted to the floor behind him. He had no choice but to wait for the assistance of Miranda or his mountain troll slave Klup. Hopefully, one of them had heard the alarm and would arrive soon, before Peter grew too weak to continue holding the rift open.

Peter heard the sounds of the heavy wooden door at the top of the stairs creaking open. Finally, someone was on the way. He listened closely and didn’t hear the ‘click ... click’ of Klup’s claws on the stone steps. This meant that the newcomer must be Miranda, or possibly it might be Tevi, although Peter doubted that the half-night-elf girl would be indoors after dark.

“I’m coming, Lord Bent!” Miranda called out. “I’m sorry for not being here when you arrived but I had to tend to my duties.”

Here on Cursed Island and in the lands surrounding Mirror Lake, Peter was known as Lord Bent. Miranda usually called him by his title, even in private. Her comment about her duties reminded Peter that his manor was still short-staffed. It had been two months since poor little Rosie had been killed and he’d yet to find a replacement.

Miranda emerged into the chamber carrying a bundle of clothing. Peter licked his lips as he saw that she was also clutching a small jug of cider. His eyes then noticed the young woman’s heaving breasts under her tightly cinched homespun housecoat and he felt his body’s other current wants. It had been a long, lonely week back on Earth and he was in need of relief. Miranda looked a bit haggard but was still very pretty even at this late hour. Her cheeks were glowing which meant that she had likely just finished bathing. More the better, Peter thought.

Miranda approached Peter and knelt on the hard stone floor in front of him in supplication. While she was on her knees, she assisted Peter in donning his favorite pair of leather-soled house slippers. Once his feet were insulated from the cold stone, she embraced his upper thighs, her warm cheek brushing against his currently cold-shrunken penis.

“I am glad you are back, my lord,” she whispered with a surprising amount of emotion. “Klup is coming to assist us with the cage.”

“Cages,” Peter corrected the woman, who he amusingly referred to as his executive officer or XO for short. “We will be bringing across two captives.”

“Two women? I thought only one seed was ready.”

“The second is a male ... her pimp, I think. He surprised me when I was trying to subdue the target woman.”

“Is he still alive?” Miranda asked, standing and handing him the jug.

“Yes...” Peter replied before taking a big swig of the fortified cider. Miranda had heated it for him and the warmth of it hitting his belly was soothing.

“But both of them are still heavily sedated,” he continued, after a second pull from the jug. “I can’t hold this portal open much longer. We’ll have to begin before Klup gets here. Go fetch the rope ... quickly!”

Miranda took the jug and set it and the bundle of clothing aside before scampering over to retrieve the rope as he had commanded. She had to pull hard to unspool it as the rusty capstan resisted turning. He’d need to have Hamm service and oil it soon. Finally, she had gotten it close enough that Peter could slip its hook over a link in the chain.

Miranda ran back to the capstan and began to slowly crank in the rope. Peter turned to face the portal and began pulling the chain with both hands. Working together they began to make slow but steady progress. They had managed to pull through just enough chain to expose the first cage when Klup came bounding down the stone stairs.

“Klup comes! Klup comes!” the she-troll bellowed as she entered the room.

The hairy, seven-foot-tall mountain troll moved in front of Peter and began pulling hand over hand. Peter stopped exerting himself but remained in contact with the chain as it was the conduit connecting his magic-infused will to the still-active portal. As he watched the troll laboring, he noticed that she looked much more gravid than she had when he’d last seen her. He’d read that troll pups grew quickly but now he saw the proof before him.

“How long until your pups are born?” He asked the she-troll.

“More ... one moon ... maybe ... two moons,” Klup managed to grunt out.

Peter was surprised. Mountain troll pups did apparently quicken much faster than their more-diminutive forest cousins which he was more familiar with. He recalled when Klup had gotten impregnated just two months ago. The she-troll had been in her normal late-fall heat when a boar troll passing through the area on the mainland had somehow caught Klup’s scent all the way out here on the island.

Following it back, the lust-crazed boar-troll had braved Mirror Lake and managed to swim out to the island, evading both Peter’s magical wards and the defensive guardian trees planted along the beach. The horny troll had searched out and eventually found his quarry. Peter had found the pair after the male had finished inseminating Klup but while he was still locked to the she-troll by his still-swollen penile knot. Peter had been in such a rage at the time and he had ordered Tevi to put a poisoned arrow into the trapped boar-troll’s eye socket, causing it to quickly fall unconscious.

The reason for Peter’s anger had not simply been the unplanned mating of his slave. No, the reason was far worse. Before the boar-troll had found Klup, it had stumbled across poor little Rosie out picking late fall berries. The large barb-headed cock of the lust-filled troll had ripped the poor tender girl’s insides out moments after it had begun fucking her. She’d died screaming long before the troll had climaxed. And then, to heap further insult upon injury, the troll had fed on the girl’s remains before it continued hunting for Klup.

After the boar-troll’s swollen knot had deflated enough for the still-dazed Klup to crawl away and lick her own hurts, Peter, still very pissed off, had consumed one of his valuable magical potions and incinerated the sleeping male troll on the spot. Klup would not speak to him for weeks after the attack, not because he’d killed the male, but due to the shame she felt for her heat causing the boar to come to the island resulting in Rosie’s death. Peter eventually convinced the troll that he did not blame her but he had to be careful around her.